Sir Merlin, Temporary Knight of Camelot
by Astiza
Summary: Tag to 4x05 and inspired by an Awkward Moment. Just how did Merlin end up in chain mail?


**A/N:** Tag to 4x05 - wasn't that an awesome episode? Anway, this is a brainchild of my awkward moment from my _Awkward Moments_ fic.

"That awkward moment when you realize Arthur must've said something like, "I dub thee, Sir Merlin, Temporary Knight of Camelot."

So here's a little ditty. Please review!

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><p>Chain mail is heavy, Merlin thought.<p>

The forest was still dark, the air still chilly. Merlin lay on his stomach, wrapped up in a thin blanket on the hard ground. His neckerchief had gone askew during the night and when he raised his head, he could feel a cloth imprint on his cheek. In other words, Merlin was not entirely prepared for the day.

After stirring up the fire and dishing up a quick breakfast for the king and his knights, Merlin sat himself down on the logs and warmed his hands. The knights were milling about, fetching their breakfast and stretching their cramped and cold limbs after a frigid night in the forest. Merlin did not like going after invading armies in the middle of the woods.

Once the sun was up, and the king with it, the knights gathered around the fire to discuss their impending actions. Agravaine sat beside Arthur, watching the young king with a kind of self-satisfied, false-fatherly look that made Merlin bristle.

"The scouts reported no enemy movement during the night. They have not broken camp on the other side of the field," Agravaine explained, his gaze sweeping the little camp until it finally rested on Arthur. Arthur raised his chin a bit, looking into the fire as though he could see his enemies burning already.

"No, not yet. Our best bet is to ambush them," the king replied, setting down his bowl absently. "And we can't exactly do that when they're in the cover of the trees."

"Right you are, sire," Agravaine replied with conviction. Gwaine shot the advisor a sidelong glance of speculation, wrinkling his brow slightly. Merlin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching as it steamed in the air before him.

"We'll need to lure them out towards us." Agravaine slapped his knee for emphasis. "And we'll need someone to do it."

Arthur frowned, "That's incredibly dangerous uncle, are you certain it's the only way? Surely, we could…"

"Could what, Arthur? No, it's the only way and we'll need someone very brave and very …"

"Foolish," Sir Leon supplied the answer, unhappy with Agravaine's methods. He looked around at the assembled company.

Agravaine smiled graciously, "Well, that wasn't precisely what I was thinking, but it will take a degree of risk." He stood up as though to get a better view of the available prey. His gaze settled on Merlin and the manservant flinched a bit. Yes, Agravaine thought, Merlin could do it. And if he failed, then what was the loss? He was but a servant – a very pesky servant whose intentions toward Arthur Agravaine was not certain of. That servant _had_ er- tackled the king to the floor at a war council under the pretense of helping him right his trousers. Either way, Merlin was the obvious choice.

The knights and the king, seeing the direction of Agravaine's eyes, fell upon Merlin as well.

"_Merlin_," Arthur said, looking back at his uncle. "Really, uncle? Caerleon's wild men are hardly going to chase down my manservant."

Agravaine chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "We'll dress him as a knight of Camelot – send him over there and then have him run back to us. It'll be perfect."

"That's the sort of command one would give a dog," Percival whispered to Elyan.

"What if he's injured?" Gwaine asked the question that was on all of the knight's and the king's minds.

"Yeah, _what_ _if_ I'm injured?" Merlin echoed, staring blankly ahead. Arthur was about to say something on the topic of Merlin's health, but Agravaine's perturbed expression stopped him. His uncle didn't like it when Merlin talked back. It wasn't _appropriate_ and it certainly wasn't something his father would have tolerated.

"It is a risk I'm sure you're more than willing to take, young man," Agravaine said heartily, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.

And that was how Merlin found himself sagging in chainmail.

"You're sure you'll be alright?" Arthur asked him quietly.

Merlin grinned uneasily, "Yeah, I'll be fine Arthur. I'm faster than I look."

Arthur smiled back and clasped him firmly on the arm. "Just be careful, idiot. You're a loyal friend- and loyal friends are hard to come by."

"Don't worry, sire. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't Merlin."

A few minutes later and after a very insistent Gwaine's imploring words, Merlin was kneeling before his king, a red cape hung over his shoulders.

The knights gathered around. Elyan and Gwaine were shoving each other for no apparent reason and smiling creepily. Arthur promptly told them to shut up and was met with protest from the two that they hadn't been talking. Leon and Percival stood quietly, watching, and Agravaine hovered off Arthur's shoulder like a mosquito. Agravaine, of course, thought it was completely unnecessary to hold a knighting ceremony… a temporary knighting ceremony… in the middle of the woods, but after some persuasion, Arthur had capitulated. It was true, the king reasoned, that when a man had the title of a knight he fought twice as hard. In Merlin's case, Arthur hoped his servant would be able to _run_ twice as hard.

"Merlin of … Camelot, you have been a loyal servant and a trusted friend for many years. Your courage and bravery in service to the kingdom and myself is commendable. From this day forth, to … the end of today if all goes well, I dub thee Sir Merlin, Temporary Knight of Camelot."

Gwaine cheered loudly, drawing several looks of consternation, but he ignored them and began passing out the mugs of ale he had prepared in anticipation of Merlin's temporary knighthood.

"Sir Merlin!" Merlin smiled as he was greeted by his new, albeit temporary, title. He'd never let Arthur forget this one.


End file.
